


Guts.

by WoodSpear



Series: Human. [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cyborgs, F/F, F/M, Fist Fights, Lots of Mean Girls References, M/M, Non-Sburb Paranormal AU, Punkstuck too, Typical Teenage Emotions, Vampires, Werewolves, stuff like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1842199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodSpear/pseuds/WoodSpear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why can't I just be normal?" I screamed at the top of my faulting lungs, ones that were burning for the air they didn't need. "Why can't you just love me for who I am? Why did you have to do this to me?"<br/>I stared at the blood on my hands, and then brought them to my face. I felt worthless. <br/>I didn't even feel the pain of the stab in my chest anymore. It was hollow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guts.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Any Of These Characters.

When I moved to Washington, I knew it was trouble. I told everyone that I knew it was trouble, but nobody ever listens to me. But maybe it was because I was the one who was so psyched about coming here. I was a bit of a Twilight fan, but we actually lived in the small town of Lacey which was a good distance away from Forks. So there weren't a whole bunch of Twilight fans here.  
I mean, I'd been here before. But only once, and that was a really, really long time ago. We came because there was just enough sun and just enough rain to balance it out, plenty of people, and plenty of road noise to make restless nights seem not-so-restless.  
So, while we turned into the driveway for the second time in a little neighborhood, I once again voiced my discomfort.  
"Dude, this place sucks, and it's going to suck every day that we are here," I growled, looking over at my mother in the driver seat. I scowled at her violet eyes, and she scowled right back.   
"This was your idea, Roxanne," she stuck her nose up, and I flared my nostrils. I hated, hated being called Roxanne. Who even calls their fifteen year old daughter Roxanne in 2014? That name would probably end up getting me mugged in an alley one day, or be the only reason people laugh at me when I go to school. "Roxanne Lalonde? Is there a Roxanne in this class?" Talk about fucking embarrassing. This isn't the 17th century anymore, you old twat.  
I shook my head and climbed out, and thanked whatever God was out there for blessing us with cloudy skies today. The movers were already bringing boxes out, and I was carrying in our little kitty cat we'd kept from revisiting home in London.  
Man, that place was killer. 

I waved to the movers in a friendly manner, then walked into the house to scope the place out. My bedroom was down the hall, upstairs, the one at the back of the house. My sister's was opposite of mine, and my mum's was downstairs.  
It took a good shove to move the door, and then I set Mutie, the adorable black cat I got for my birthday this last year, on the floor to sniff around. It was big, with a large window that led out to a small balcony overlooking the backyard. There was just enough room for my full bed, the computer desk, and all of my game consoles plus my wardrobe.  
When the movers started putting the bed together, I went to explore the rest of the house. Two bathrooms, one upstairs and one downstairs. That would solve the morning routine game. The attic was sealed shut, with no string to pull it down, and we had a basement that felt cozy enough.  
Crazy that a creepy, dirty room could feel cozy, right?  
Soon enough we got all the boxes in the house and in their correct places, and we put our clothes away before deciding we just didn't feel like doing anything and we all sat on the couch watching box sets of Criminal Minds on my laptop for the rest of the night before retiring to our own rooms.  
The worst thing about moving was that literally the next day I had to start school. As a sophomore. In a crazy town full of crazier people. Lord help me.

The morning absolutely sucked. I was exhausted, my sister had hogged the upstairs bathroom so I had to go downstairs in order to get anything done. If makeup wasn't a big problem, what was was that we didn't have any hot water. So I had to just wash my face and then get dressed. I knew I seemed a little bit of the "don't look at me" type, but I'm really an outgoing person. I just like punk bands.  
I had to wait for little Rosey to get done so I could start walking. She was a freshman, and certainly looked like one. She reminded me of someone who really had the youth every high school girl would kill for. She still had a baby face that was mature enough to be her face.  
Ugh.  
I feel like I'm trying to write a diary,  
or like I'm justifying doing so.  
Don't write diaries kids it's a bad idea when you have a nosy little sister who reads it and then tells your mum that you hate a lot of things you shouldn't hate.

It was already lonely by the time we got to the school, which was conveniently only a block or so away from our neighborhood. There were several groups of kids crowded around each other and I immediately thought of Mean Girls, scowling. I took a drink out of a bottle, and felt my stomach churn. I felt sick.  
Turning around, I saw Rose was gone and had decided to walk ahead of me. I was okay with that, seeing as how we were getting weird stares from different little cliques. It seemed like this was the type of town where everyone has known everyone since they were in preschool and new comers were unwelcomed. That's okay.  
I fix my bag on my shoulders and started to walk towards the front office of the huge school Timberline. It was two stories tall, and I estimated a good 4000 square feet but how could I know I'm not an architect or a scientist.  
I politely got my schedule from the receptionist, then started navigating the hallways. Granted the place being HUGE, I didn't get lost like every new kid in the movies. My first two classes were right next to each other, which was AP English and Algebra 2. Walking in, I introduced myself kindly to the teacher, and then took the book we were reading (I didn't check the cover, that's too boring), and sat in the only open seat in the corner of the room.  
In front of me was a boy with brilliant blonde hair, as white-looking as mine. His skin was tan, which was nearly impossible, which made me assume he was either from some warmer part of the world or that was just in his genes. Either way, I was jealous.  
To my left was a girl who I didn't really take any interest in. She had long, straight black hair and round glasses, and when I became aware of some students watching me, I opened up the book and hid my face behind it.  
[What am I doing, here? This is dumb. I don't need this.  
I'm hungry.]

Right before lunch, I went to my locker to get familiar with it. It was blank, so I immediately papped a sticker of SKYY vodka advertising in the side and then smiled to myself, rubbing my neck.  
"Hey," a voice sounded behind me and I almost jumped out of my skin, turning my eyes onto who was behind me.  
It was a girl, with a small bob-like black haircut and cute little glasses. She had bucked teeth, and just overall seemed... well, adorable. I gave her a small smile, and thought I might've been in her way. Nervous, I shut my locker, locked it, and rushed away.  
I could hear her trying to get my attention again, but I ignored her. I didn't like the attention from people so soon. I preferred to melt into the background before actually coming out and making friends. I didn't want to be that girl at the top of the social pyramid, I didn't want to be the one bowing at said girls feet. I just wanted to be normal. And I could do that by not attracting too much attention.  
As long as I can keep my little secret, I'll be safe. I can feel it in my bones.


End file.
